


Memories in a Tin

by Froggy1988



Series: Cassarian Advent Calendar 2020 [6]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Cassarian Advent Calender 2020 (Disney), Day 6, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froggy1988/pseuds/Froggy1988
Summary: A small tin brings back memories for Varian.Cassarian advent calender 2020, day 6
Relationships: Cassandra/Varian (Disney: Tangled)
Series: Cassarian Advent Calendar 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035303
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	Memories in a Tin

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This chapter alludes to sexual situations.  
> Oh, and the song is by Gordon Haskell: Freeway to her dreams.

He looked around the guest room, hesitating as he stepped through the door. This was her space, for tonight at least, and the things in it were her belongings. Varian knew that what he was doing was an invasion of privacy, but the room was calling him. She had been in here, he was sharing a space that she had recently inhabited, perhaps breathing the same air, seeing the same things. It was like a shrine to him. After all this time, he was close to her again. Feelings long buried flooded back to him, he trembled with them. Yet, it was still just a guest room, empty of her, except, she’d laid some belongings out ready for use on the dressing table. Familiar objects, he’d forgotten all about them, but now they came back to him as if he’d seen them every day for years, not once, thirty years ago. Though, that memory had always been so precious to him.

** 30 Years Ago **

_He placed a light kiss on the warm skin of her shoulder as he shuffled out of bed, instantly regretting leaving her behind. The morning sun was streaming through the window, and as he looked back at her she blinked blearily, face set in a frown as she came back into the world of the awake. He wondered for the fifteenth time if there was anything he could say to make her stay._

_He looked down at the small collection of items on her dressing table. She’d been travelling for a while now, and all her earthly belongings fitted into a shoulder bag and a couple of saddle packs. His fingers touched the coolness of the tortoise shell make up box. He’d sat on the bed and watched her the night before, watched as she painted the colour onto her lips that he would later kiss off, eye liners and blushes. She’d barely noticed him as she chatted with Rapunzel next to her. It was an intimate moment, one he’d not been expected to be involved in, watching the intricacies of that feminine art, and he’d wanted, so wanted to pull the hair back from her neck and place a kiss there, as if he were her lover and that moment was just for him._

_Later that night though, he’d got to kiss that neck, taste that skin, hear those whispers. How could one-night mean so much? She was stirring behind him as he picked up a small tin and flipped its lid, expecting to find perfume, or maybe rouge, but instead inside was a small piece of paper._

_“It’s you.”_

_He jumped slightly, blushing as if he had been caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to._

_“It’s me?” He said curiously. “Did uh… did you not realize who you were going to bed with last night?” He joked uncomfortably._

_She rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow._

_“Okay, it’s not just you, but… well, open it.”_

_Varian reached into the little tin and pulled out the piece of paper and carefully unfolded it._

Their first time, and the last time that he had seen her. It hadn’t been the start of something, it had been a goodbye, one that he’d eventually moved on from. He’d locked that memory away in his mind, occasionally letting it drift back to him, the smell of her perfume against his neck, the taste of her skin, the warmth of her body, like a little gem locked inside his mind. He’d been in love with that memory. It had been alright, it had never made Astoria jealous, she’d known that a memory was just a memory, the real woman far away, and Varian had loved Astoria too. So much.

Varian picked up the little rectangular tin. So many years had passed, he’d gotten married, had children, loved and laughed, and worked, and danced, and then buried a wife, brought up two teenage sons alone, and eventually… relearnt to laugh and to dance, not to love though, two loves of his life had been enough for his heart. Cassandra, she’d travelled the world, had princes and warriors alike fall in love with her. One, she’d settled with for ten years, though he’d heard that was over now. They’d had entire lives lived separate from each other. So, there was no reason that this little tin would still contain that miniature painting it had last time he’d picked it up. He flicked the lid, and his heart could have stopped when he saw the yellowing piece of paper, holes along the folds now. He reached out cautiously and unfolded it oh so gently. It was a mirror to the past, Rapunzel and Eugene so young and carefree, heads tilted back with laughter, and there, included in the group, sat at the side looking at them with a soft fondness was Varian. He couldn’t have been much more than a teenager when Rapunzel had painted it.

Varian smiled as something in his heart leapt. All those years, all those miles, a thousand little items probably lost along the way, and yet, she still had a painting of him. All those memories, they hit him full forced now, he could remember that morning, remember how he’d held his heart together as they’d said goodbye, off on adventures that he couldn’t be a part of. She was going further that time, there had been no promises to return that time, a whole different life was waiting for her somewhere.

“Her secrets in her shoulder bag  
They're sewn into the seams  
It’s a journey that she has to take  
On the way to her dreams.  
She asks herself how come my life's  
forever in a spin  
And she hides a tiny painting  
in an old chipped tin.  
  
She keeps her make-up in a box  
with its lid of tortoiseshell  
I caught a glimpse inside it once  
of a jewel beneath the veil.

I loved her then I love her still  
though it's not what she believes  
One day I hope she'll see me there  
on the road to her dreams.  
  
Her secrets in her shoulder bag  
They're sewn into the seams.  
And the journey takes her on and on  
On the road to her dreams.  
And one day I hope she'll see me there  
On the road to her dreams.”

Varian jumped as he heard footsteps coming along the corridor behind him. He carefully folded the old painting of himself and placed the tin back on the dressing table. It was too late to make a stealthy exit, so he straightened himself up and turned to face the door, as if he had been waiting there. It probably wasn’t her, he told himself, but his heart thudded heavily in his chest. That heart, how many times had he thought it was too broken to continue beating? But it had continued, and apparently, it could still play games with him. His mouth dropped open as the figure came into view.

She was still slim, still had the body of an athlete, well-toned and strong limbed. Her black trousers and ghillie shirt hung close to her, and between the leather thongs at her neck he thought he caught a glimpse of something purple. Her hair had changed though, she wore it long, it reached down her back, still raven black though now streaked with grey. Her eyes large, stunning green with only the finest of winkles around them, and her lips… he shouldn’t stare, but they were painted a simpler, paler colour than what she used to wear. She had aged, but she wore her years well.

She had come to a stop in the doorway, obviously taken aback to find she wasn’t alone.

“Cassie.”

She was stunning to him; she always would be. His heart thudded heavily in his chest; his mouth went dry; would she recognise him? The years had not been quite as kind to him perhaps as they had been to her.

Her eyes opened a little wider as she stepped towards him, giving a soft smile, so familiar, one that had a special place locked away in his mind.

“Varian.” She said softly.

  
The years and events that stood between them disappeared, and to each of them it was like the years dropped from each other’s bodies. To him she would always be that thirty something year old, because he could see the face and shape of her underneath the years. Then the distance between them disappeared too, and she was in his arms, and he was holding her close to him, feeling that hole he’d been carrying in his heart slowly start to heal up.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, we're 1/4 of the way through and so far so good. I hope people are enjoying the stories.
> 
> Tomorrow's advent story is by myself (froggy1988) is called Through the Window - and it's back to teen and fluff.


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